


because i can't let go of you

by towokuwusatsuwu



Category: Kamen Rider Build
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Introspection, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 19:23:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12464262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/towokuwusatsuwu/pseuds/towokuwusatsuwu
Summary: Sento never thought he would confess how he felt, and despite his numerous theories on Soichi's response, he could never have predicted this outcome.





	because i can't let go of you

It could have been anyone else, that much Sento knows. Statistically speaking, there is no reason that Soichi Isurugi should be the man who finds him rain-soaked and confused in an alley. There are no numbers to suggest that Soichi would be the most likely to take him in, at least not tangible numbers that make sense. Compassion can’t be measured in such a way.

The thought makes him bite down on the end of the pen he’s been writing with for the last thirty minutes, and the thought of Soichi breaks him out of his reverie. It helps him realize that a steady ache has begun in his wrist, a signal to take a break and stretch the muscles there.

This has been happening every now and again, especially in the last few weeks. Sento will be working and he’ll just have a flashback to that moment, peeking up through his rain-heavy lashes to see an unfamiliar man standing above him, a man who held out a hand to him.

Sometimes, this memory is partnered with a warm, fluttery feeling in his gut that makes Sento squeeze his eyes shut and pinch the bridge of his nose. He knows there are logical reasons why he feels this way toward Soichi; the man had given him a place to live when there was nowhere else for him to go and had allowed Ryuga to move in when he, too, had nowhere else to go. He was kind and warm and it showed through every aspect of his personality.

Not that it made it easier to deal with his feelings, of course. If anything, they were becoming more difficult to manage by the day. He thinks that Soichi finding him and saving him from Blood Stark’s venom had only intensified the way he felt toward the older man.

It’s childish, he knows, to develop a puppy love crush on someone like this and he wishes he could be above it. He wishes that his mind didn’t wander back to that afternoon, to the long nights he spent trying to get used to living in Nascita, to Soichi’s funny stories about Misora growing up over canned coffee (Sento refused to drink his home-brewed coffee after his first taste). He remembers being hunched over the Build driver back when he was still tweaking it, whining that his shoulders ached and trying to hide his furious blush when Soichi had massaged them, evidently oblivious to just how overwhelmed Sento was by his touch.

Just the thought makes Sento’s cheeks warm and he drags his hands down his face and groans.

A loud snore makes him jump and a startled squeak of a sound escapes his throat. He claps both hands over his mouth to muffle it, eyes darting toward the bed where Misora is sleeping while Ryuga is half-curled on the floor with a pillow stuffed beneath his head. Neither of them seem to have been disturbed by him at the very least, so he takes the chance given to him and heads upstairs to the cafe, trying to keep his footsteps as quiet as possible on the stairs.

This late at night, the cafe is mostly dark except for a few small lights behind the counter that give the room an ambient glow and make it just bright enough to navigate without tripping over one of the chair legs. Sento rounds the counter and picks a table in the farthest corner to sit at, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. It’s been too long since he had a decent night’s sleep, but with Faust’s schemes seeming to escalate, he doesn’t have much time to sleep.

The cafe is quiet enough that Sento can relax in the shadows, folding his arms on the smooth wood of the table and using them to pillow his head. He had been planning a new weapon to go with his latest best match before Soichi had invaded his thoughts once again, but now he feels no desire to go back downstairs and finish it. He’s tired, and his best work hardly comes when he can barely keep his eyes open. If the bed was open, he might be able to catch a few hours of shut eye before another tragedy inevitably forces him back out into the open to fight once again, but he doesn’t want to disturb Misora or Ryuga. Just the same, he might be able to catch at least twenty minutes of a nap here before his neck complains about the position.

“Sento?” The voice startles him from his doze, his head snapping up as his eyes scan the interior of the cafe. It doesn’t take him long to find Soichi standing behind the counter, framed softly by the light behind him, though it’s too dark for Sento to make out any more details than that. “You shouldn’t be sleeping up here, you know. You’ll get a crick in your neck.”

The words make Sento’s hand dart up to his neck, a self-conscious flush beginning beneath his skin, and he chides himself for these kinds of reactions and thoughts to something as simple as common courtesy and kindness. “The bed’s taken right now,” he says, pushing himself up from his seat, wavering on tired legs. “I didn’t want to wake up Misora or Banjo.”

“You don’t always have to sacrifice for others, you know.” Soichi points to an empty chair in front of him and Sento slowly drags himself over to it. “There are other beds here than just that one.”

Sento bites back a bark of laughter at the thought as he lowers himself into the chair, accepting the glass of water Soichi slides him. Ice clinks against the sides of the glass, and Sento hums in approval as he gulps down the cold liquid. He hadn’t realized he was so parched until now, but it makes sense given how he gets when he’s in the middle of work. It occurs to him as he sets the glass down, using his condensation-damp hand to cool down his overly warm face, that Soichi had known. Because he knows Sento better than Sento knows himself at this point.

“You look terrible.” Soichi stretches a hand out toward him and Sento keeps himself still, his eyes almost drifting closed as the reassuring touch of fingers brushing his hair back off of his forehead. He cracks a small smile at the insult, then takes another drink of his water, sucking a piece of ice between his lips and letting it melt slowly on his tongue.

“I’m not putting you out of your bed just because mine’s taken for now.” Sento has only been in that bed one time, and it had been awakening from a fever break on his third night in Nascita to find Soichi in a chair positioned beside the bed, fast asleep.

Soichi shakes his head. “It’s not good for you not to sleep. You need your strength to fight.”

That much is, at least, a proven fact. “I know. But they need their strength just as much.”

He thinks, in the back of his mind, that they might need it more. Ryuga has to fight with just one Full Bottle and what Misora does saps almost all of her energy in a single purification.

“You always do for others, but it doesn’t hurt to do for yourself once or twice when it comes to the basics like sleeping.” Soichi’s tone shifts from light and playful to much more serioius.

“I know that, and I’ll sleep when I have the chance. I was going to take a nap up here while the bed was occupied.” Sento traces a finger around the rim of his glass, thinking about his friends downstairs before he manages a small smile for Soichi. “Besides, I’m fine. I’m fighting fit. If a Smash came through the door right now, I’m more than certain I could—”

“You’d fall asleep on your feet,” Soichi interrupts, and Sento drops his head at that one.

“Maybe,” he finally says, and takes another sip of water, desperate to cool his fevered skin and to chase the thirst rising within him. “But I would still try, and that counts, right?”

“Of course it does.” Soichi’s hand comes to rest on top of Sento’s, and his voice lowers, softens around the edges. “You always try even when the odds are seemingly stacked against you.”

The words embarrass him because of course they would, they would embarrass anybody, but Sento still tries for a smile. “It’s easy to believe in myself when I have other people that do.”

Soichi’s hand squeezes his and Sento finishes his glass of water, well aware that his cheeks would be visibly pink if the room was not so dark. He peers at Soichi through the half-darkness and licks a stray drop of water off of his lips. He’s too tired to be thinking what he is, but still.

He has someone who believes in him no matter what, who doesn’t doubt him and believes in his intentions even when he himself isn’t sure where he’s going. He wonders what would have happened if he hadn’t survived the explosion at Faust’s lab. Would Soichi have missed him?

It’s a stupid thought, because of course Soichi would have missed him. If he didn’t care about Sento and his well-being, then he never would have saved him from Blood Stark’s venom. He would have let Sento take care of himself. He wouldn’t have been there, time and time again, to help clean him up after a fight, to make sure he got a job he would be able to enjoy, to make sure he eats and sleeps and stays hydrated. Ryuga must be rubbing off on him.

“I’m very tired,” he finally says, and his body produces a yawn a moment later, which makes Soichi laugh and Sento smile against the palm of his hand when he tries to stifle it. He feels looser, more relaxed with Soichi here now, which is telling, but it doesn’t tell him anything he wants to hear. “Fine. Just this once, I’ll take you up on your offer of borrowing your bed.”

Soichi laughs at him, but the obvious relief in his eyes when he comes around the bar to help Sento to his feet makes the situation less funny. For the most part, Sento walks upstairs on his own, but from there he has to have Soichi lead him because he only remembers being up here the one time and it wasn’t enough for him to remember where any of the rooms are positioned.

The bedroom is as he remembers it, plain enough but warm and lived-in in a way that only a space Soichi Isurugi creates for himself can be. There are pictures in the room, pictures of Misora and of Soichi and her together, and of a woman whose name Sento has never asked after because it isn’t his place to ask questions. He sheds most of his clothing, leaving himself in just his underwear and his t-shirt, the only clothing he has on currently that’s light and comfortable enough to sleep in without feeling uncomfortable beneath the bed’s comforter.

“It’s a nice bed,” he says once he’s slunk beneath the blanket, snuggling down into the warmth, picking up the faint traces of cologne on the pillow. Of course the bed itself would smell like the man who sleeps in it every night, but he hadn’t thought about that. “Thank you for sharing it.”

“Don’t thank me for that. I don’t want you to do that.” Soichi leans over him, tugging the blanket a little higher on Sento’s shoulders, brushing his hair back off of his forehead again.

Sento makes a face up at him and stretches a hand up to grip Soichi’s shoulder. “I am because I want to. You do a lot for me and I want to show you I appreciate it. I appreciate  _ you. _ ”

His breath catches in his throat at the words, the closest he’s ever come to a full confession before, but Soichi doesn’t seem all that disturbed by his words. In fact, the way he smiles is warmer than it’s ever been before and he ducks his own head a little, as if Sento’s words were enough to fluster him. Sento catches his lip between his teeth, nibbling on it thoughtfully, not sure what to do with this information. This is data he doesn’t know how to use for its purpose.

“Well, we all appreciate you, too. And I appreciate you. You being here lets me rest easy at night because I know Misora is safe with you here to protect us,” Soichi finally says, gathering himself.

As soon as he leans back, though, Sento pushes himself up into a sitting position, not willing to let this one go. “I can only do that because you believed in me to become Build,” he presses, and Soichi stands stunned at his bedside. “You took me in. You really did save my life.”

“Of course I did. What was I supposed to do? Let you die?” Soichi asks, eyebrows furrowing.

Sento’s throat tightens, and he fights to clear it. “A lot of people would have. Most would have.”

They aren’t talking about that afternoon anymore and both of them are carefully aware of it, but Sento has no intentions of letting Soichi go underappreciated when Sento is told constantly that he’s fantastic, that he can do anything, that he’s doing this for the right reasons. Ryuga has let slip in some of his more bored states that he and Soichi have talked about Sento, and Sento never manages to escape feeling flustered when Ryuga tells him what Soichi said.

“Well, I suppose I’m not most.” Soichi grips his shoulder, squeezing it tight. “I didn’t want to lose you.”

The words shouldn’t shake Sento to his very core, but they do. “I… I don’t know what…”

“Of course there are personally selfish reasons for that. You have to keep fighting as Build, and no one else can take up that mantle. Your belt even took Banjo down when he tried to use it.” Both of them smile at that one, and Sento is proud of that. Making sure no one could use his belt was important to him, after all. It meant it could never fall into the wrong hands. “But… I care about you. You’re important to  _ me _ and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

Sento snorts at that and shakes his head, turning his gaze down to his lap, linking his fingers together. “There’s nothing that can be done about that, I don’t think. No matter what happens, I’m in this fight against Faust. I have to be because no one else can be, but I also have to keep chasing them until I find out the complete truth about what happened to me.”

Soichi sits down heavily on the side of the bed, and for a minute Sento only has his profile to study, and he drinks in every detail while trying his best to not look like he’s doing that. There are laugh lines in the corners of Soichi’s eyes and mouth and he’s handsome in a sharp way that must have been truly devastating when he was younger. All of this makes Sento’s stomach twist up in complicated knots he doesn’t know how to untie with his own fingers.

When Soichi turns to look at him, his dark eyes burn with an intensity that makes Sento’s breathing stutter and his face burn and he wants to hide in his hands to escape it. But Soichi settles a firm hand on top of both of his, ensuring he can’t do that. Maybe knowing he wanted to. “I wish I could help you. I wish I knew what happened to you, or to find a way to get you those answers. I can’t. But I will do everything in my power to make sure you get them.”

Sento wants, suddenly and powerfully, to tell Soichi the truth. He doesn’t deserve this unabashed kindness, this compassion, this tenderness and gentleness that seems to come to him every time Soichi says his name. He only does what he does because he has to and he doesn’t think he deserves someone supporting him so wholeheartedly like Soichi does.

“I…” He swallows hard around the words he’s desperate to speak, around the thoughts that have been living with him the entire time he’s been at Nascita. “I… I’m… This is hard.”

Soichi smiles at him, and Sento squirms under the attention, but this time he manages to hold Soichi’s gaze without shrinking away. “I know it’s difficult. I remember doing what I had to do to save Misora, and that was difficult. Fighting is never easy, especially against someone who seems so much stronger and has so many more resources than you do. You keep thinking you might not be enough to stop them, but if you keep pushing through, then in the end—”

“No, not that.” Sento squeezes his eyes shut. It’s now, or never. There has never been a better opportunity than this one to tell Soichi the truth. “I… Think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

Soichi blinks at him, his mouth falling open just a bit. “Sento… I’m not sure what—”

“You don’t have to say anything.” Sento covers his face with his hands, groaning against his palms as he does. “I shouldn’t have said anything. It was stupid. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not stupid. Sento, your emotions matter. I’ve been trying to tell you that, that you can talk to us when things are hard for you. I don’t want you to bottle it up.” Soichi pulls his hands away from his face and then holds onto them, leaving Sento feeling small, vulnerable even.

He drops his head to hide himself as best he can, looking at Soichi’s hands around his own, trying not to think about how nice that feels. “I’ve noticed the feelings for a while now,” he says. “It’s probably just a stupid puppy crush because you’ve done so much for me.”

“If you expect me to be upset or offended, I’m not.” Soichi chuckles a little and Sento wets his dry lips. “A handsome young genius being interested in me? What’s not to enjoy about that?”

“That’s terrible. Don’t look at it like that.” Sento squeezes his eyes shut even as his face burns and Soichi laughs again, this time louder and deeper in his chest, and Sento would be lying if he said his lips didn’t turn up at the corners at the sound. “I just don’t want to complicate life here. Life is already complicated enough for all of us without having to skirt around my feelings.”

When Soichi doesn’t speak for a few minutes, Sento forces himself to open his eyes and lift his head, and he finds Soichi studying him with a thoughtful expression on his face. Anyone else looking at him like a specimen under a microscope would make him uncomfortable enough to try to escape, but there’s a warmth in Soichi’s eyes that keeps him in place and part of him remembers  _ handsome _ and he wants to preen because even if nothing comes of this— it can’t, it shouldn’t— then at least he knows that Soichi likes to look at him.

“Your feelings are not going to complicate our lives, Sento. I want you to know that. Never hold back because of something like that.” Soichi lets go of his hands, grasps him by the shoulder once again while the other hand comes to rest on his face, and Sento has to actively stop himself from leaning into the touch like every particle in his body screams at him to do. “In fact, I don’t think this could be any simpler than it is right now. You’ve not done anything wrong.”

Sento blushes and he knows that Soichi can feel the growing heat against his fingers, helpless to do anything about that. “It feels like I have because you’ve already done so much for me. It feels like I’m asking you for more and I don’t have a right to do something that horrible.”

“It’s not horrible. Love isn’t horrible. At least, not this kind of love.” Soichi’s fingers brush over his cheek and Sento shivers, and he’s so tired and this conversation is so difficult to have. “You are a marvel, you know that? So selfless and brilliant and kind. How could anyone not fall in love with you?”

Sento blinks at him, and then the impact of his words shocks Sento the core of his being and he jerks upright, his eyes flaring wide. “W-what did you say?”

Soichi smiles at him again, and Sento almost reaches for him but catches himself at the last minute. “Ever since you came here and became Build, it was to help people. To save total strangers who might never see your face. You use your prodigious talents for saving people and protecting my daughter and you think I was never going to fall in love with you?”

Sento opens his mouth to say something, anything, but no words come and he has to press his lips together again as the gravity of this confession sinks down onto his shoulders. In all of the scenarios he had mapped out in his head, the best outcomes were always Soichi gently turning him down because of course a man like him would never want an eccentric amnesiac with nightmares hanging after him like a besotted fool. He had never said the words back.

“I never imagined you would feel the same,” he manages because the truth is better than anything else even if it makes him feel small and vulnerable, unable to shield himself.

“Sometimes I think you’re starting to think better of yourself, but I’ve come to realize it’s just your intelligence you think highly of. Not that you shouldn’t. You are a genius.” Soichi caresses his cheek and this time, Sento allows himself to lean into it. “You poor, sweet, beautiful boy.”

The compliment on his attractiveness should be the last thing that Sento focuses on— how often does he nearly beg the others to affirm that he is as smart as he thinks he is?— but he can’t help the warmth that blossoms in his chest just the same. It’s a superficial and stupid thing to fixate on, but he can’t stop himself from doing it just the same.

“I don’t really know what to say.” He tries for a tiny smile. “I’ve thought about this a thousand times but I’ve never imagined you saying you felt the same. It never occurred to me.”

Soichi shakes his head at him, the hand on his shoulder coming up to cup the other side of his face. “I’ll say it again. How could anyone resist falling in love with you?”

“I… I don’t have an answer to that question. Don’t ask it.” Sento has never felt so thoroughly overwhelmed in his life, but it’s pleasant at the same time. “You really do love me?”

“This will also sound selfish, but when I found you at the warehouse, I thought you were going to die on me before I ever had a chance to properly tell you.” Soichi’s smile is sadder now and Sento’s heart strains at the thought as well. “I wanted to tell you that I loved you, and that I would stand beside you through all of this. You deserve to know how much you’re loved, Sento.”

His chest aches and he wants contact, more, anything that Soichi is willing to give him right now. Logically, he knows that rushing into absolutely anything is the wrong move to make and could hurt them both badly, but he wants something, even something small. It’s hard to ask, even though he knows Soichi feels the same for him. It’s made some things simpler, others harder.

“Can I have a kiss?” he manages to ask, his voice smaller and entirely lacking his normal confidence, but then, he’s been lacking that since Soichi found him downstairs. “I just… I’ve said enough and words don’t feel like enough and I’ve been imagining it for weeks.”

Soichi chuckles and one thumb comes to stroke across Sento’s lower lip, the simple caress making him burn in a way very little else could ever hope to, making him yearn for this far more than he has yearned in the past. “You aren’t the only one who’s been thinking about that.”

He doesn’t make Sento wait, either. Maybe the two of them have waited enough. Sento only knows that he blinks and Soichi’s mouth is on top of his, warm and reassuring and so real that Sento sinks into the kiss without thinking about it. His lips are clumsy and he supposes he must not have had much practice in whatever former life he must have had.

Soichi, however, does. He captures Sento’s lips with his own and kisses him slowly, as if trying to savor every single brush of their mouths. He leads and Sento follows and he falls into the easy rhythm after a minute or so, little gasps catching in his throat, his eyes falling closed so he can focus on all of the little sensations, the way Soichi holds his face so gently and tenderly.

It makes Sento feel like the focus of his attention, like Soichi is putting his all into this and trying to make Sento feel as special as possible. It’s working, too. Sento finally moves nervous fingers, cupping them around the back of Soichi’s neck to hold him close. He doesn’t want any space to come between the two of them, doesn’t want to separate from him and he barely bites back an audible whine when Soichi finally draws back to look at him.

“That was everything I’d hoped it would be and more,” Soichi tells him, and the praise makes Sento sit up straighter, his tingling lips spreading in a wide smile. “I want to sit and talk about this, probably for hours. But it’s late and you’ve had a very, very long day.”

Sento shrugs this off. “It had a nice ending,” he argues, and Soichi laughs at that, and Sento smiles again, feeling freer than he has all evening. “It’s been a long day for all of us. I don’t want to put you out of your bed. Do you think… Maybe we could share it?”

Soichi stares at him for a very long moment and Sento wonders if he’s crossed a line before Soichi slowly smiles at him and nods, and Sento immediately scoots over in bed. He half-turns away while Soichi undresses, glancing over once or twice because he wants to see, and he supposes that in time he’ll be able to see everything. He only fully turns back around when Soichi slips under the comforter, reaching for him, wanting to touch him.

Soichi more than meets him halfway. He leans over and wraps his arms around Sento’s waist and pulls him up into his arms, and Sento squeaks at suddenly being lifted off of the mattress like this. But he twists around so he can wrap his arms around Soichi’s shoulders, resting his head on one of them, enjoying how it feels to be held like this. He’s heard no end of how Soichi thinks so highly of him but it’s different to be held like this, like a treasured thing, overwhelming to think about in the best way and Sento can’t help but grin against his arm.

Strong hands soothe up and down his back and Sento lets his eyes fall closed, the pleasure making his muscles lose their tension and reminding him just how tired he is. But he doesn’t make any move to lie down, too content to be enveloped in this embrace, and he’s comfortable enough right now that he might be able to sleep in this position.

But Soichi slides down without disturbing him, until he’s laying back on the mattress with Sento stretched on top of him, still working at the knots of tension in his back. Sento makes a soft noise against his throat before daring to press a kiss there, and he swears he feels Soichi’s hands spasm against his back for just a moment before they continue massaging.

“You need to sleep now,” Soichi murmurs against his ear, and Sento doesn’t argue when Soichi rolls over to lay him down on the mattress. But he doesn’t let go of him, either. “I’ll be here with you all night long and I’ll stay right here until you wake up as long as you sleep for me.”

It’s too easy to take him up on that offer and Sento leans back to look at him, offering him a sleepy smile. “Deal,” he says, turning his head to muffle a yawn against the pillow. “Well, almost deal. Give me a goodnight kiss and I’ll go to sleep for you.”

Soichi kisses him again, a gentle press of their lips before pulling Sento in against his chest. “Now get some rest. You’ve more than earned it.”

Sento tucks his head under Soichi’s chin and lets himself be held, and if he wasn’t dangerously close to just dropping off to sleep, he would tell Soichi that it’s much easier to let himself rest when he’s being held this close and this tight. But instead, he lets his eyes fall closed and concentrates on the sound of Soichi’s slow and easy breathing above him, on the way his hand still rubs slow circles into Sento’s back as if helping to lull him off to sleep. He curls a hand in Soichi’s shirt and nuzzle against his throat, and he feels fulfilled in a way he hasn’t before.

The last thing he remembers before sleep claims him is Soichi dropping a kiss on top of his head.


End file.
